


Oh My-

by incogneat_oh



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Humor, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogneat_oh/pseuds/incogneat_oh
Summary: “What?”“You got carjacked?”“Alfred!”“Attemptedcarjacking, sirs. You will notice I drove home.”





	

It’s late afternoon and Dick is getting his butt kicked.

“Seriously,” he says, tongue out one side of his mouth, tilting on the couch. “ _Seriously_. How’re you beating me at this? You barely knew what a video game  _was_ a few months ago.”

“Genetic superiority,” Damian tells him, without pause. Doesn’t even glance away from the screen. “And you should have less of an ego, Grayson. Don’t assume you’re good at something, just because you’ve been doing it longer.”

“I–” Dick sputters, mashing buttons. “ _My_ ego’s the problem?”

Damian continues, as though he hasn’t heard. “If that were the case, you’d be better than me at everything. And we both know that’s not true.” And he effortlessly completes a combo-move that culminates in a roundhouse kick to the face.

Dick’s KO’d. 

He sags down on the couch, eyes faintly glazed as he stares at the screen. 

Damian nudges him. “Again?”

Dick frowns down at his brother, but selects  _Continue._

“Glutton for punishment,” the kid says, smugly, stretching his fingers. Wriggling back onto the couch cushions.

“If I beat you this time, do I get a hug?” he asks, for the umpteenth time. Complete with eyebrow waggle, (because it’s not a sincere offer, otherwise).

“Literally not  _ever_ ,” Damian says, and the timer starts. And then there’s silence for a minute, except the huffs of breath and the sounds of button mashing. Dick’s laughter that quickly dissolves into a growl.

And then there’s the sound of the front door. Dick pauses, tossing the controller down.

“You only did that because you’re already losing–” Damian objects loudly.

“Alfred’s home, don’t be rude,” Dick cuffs him gently over the back of the head, neatly avoids Damian’s habitual attempt to trip him. Then he’s in the hall, starting toward the stairs. “Alfred!”

And, “Hi Alfred, how’d it go?" 

But he stops dead. Mouth gaping wide.

Ignoring Alfred’s hurried attempts to wave him quiet, he says, "Oh my  _God_ ,” and then, louder, “ _Oh my God_ Alfred  _what–”_  and “What  _happened_?” as he thumps his way down the stairs.

Damian, a few steps behind his brother, just mumbles “I’ll get ice” and then he’s gone.

“Alfred–”

“Master Dick–”

“ _Alfred_ –”

“It’s nothing, I assure you–”

“ _Who did this to you_ oh Alfie are you okay–”

“I’m fine, sir–”

“Alfred oh my god–”

“Honestly, Master Richard–”

“My poor Alfie! Come on, you have to sit down,” and Dick is tugging him along by the arm, carefully manoeuvring him to the parlour. Deaf to his protests. Dick settles him gently but firmly on the couch and drags over the ottoman, manually putting his feet up. He’s halfway back with a blanket before Alfred snaps.

“It’s just a black eye!”

“Who gave you a black eye?” Tim’s wide-eyed in the doorway, having heard the commotion. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly,” Alfred says, putting his feet firmly back on the floor. Glaring at Dick warningly. “You boys. I appreciate the concern, but I am perfectly well. It is a  _bruise_. That is all.” And then, smiling, “Thank you, Damian.” He puts the offered icepack against the rapidly-swelling left side of his face, and the ten year old sits close beside him. “And  _Master Richard_ , stop looking at me like that.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” he mumbles, sufficiently chastised, and sits on the man’s other side. Puts an arm around him. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

And Alfred sighs long-sufferingly, patting Dick on the back. He says, pointedly, “ _Hm_ , if only I knew what  _that_  was like.”

“How did it happen?” Tim asks quietly, settling himself on a chair across.

“Yeah, how’d it happen?" 

"I hardly think that’s relevant–”

“Alfred–”

“At least give us a chance–”

“–just tell us how it happened–”

“–so we can kick their asses, that’s all–”

“–we’ll behave, I swear–”

“You chronicle our injuries, so it seems only fair–”

“–give us a chance to defend your honour–”

“–shush Dick–”

“–and no offence, but I’m sure we can take ‘em–”

“ _It was an attempted carjacking_.”

There is a pause.

“ _What?_ ”

“You got  _carjacked?_ ”

“Alfred!”

“ _Attempted_ carjacking, sirs. You will notice I  _drove_ home.”

Dick, vaguely horrified, gives Alfred a squeeze. Mumbles, “Oh my  _god_ ” again. Alfred just flicks his ear.

“And  _as for having my honour defended,_ ” he says. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to do violence on my behalf, it is unnecessary. The perpetrator is behind bars, after I rather successfully– what is that delightful expression you are all so fond of?– ah yes,  _kicked his ass_.”

“Alfred!”

Tim mouths, to Dick 'Did he just say ass?’ while Alfred pretends not to notice.

And Damian, ignoring the both of them, says, “Are you otherwise injured, Pennyworth?” Small face pinched and worried. 

Alfred shakes his head, says, “He only got in one good hit,” and gestures vaguely to the icepack on his face. “I thought I had best return home before my peripheral vision was completely shot. Just in time too, I should think.”

“…Does Bruce know?”

“I certainly didn’t tell him,” Alfred says, with what is probably a raised eyebrow (it’s hard to tell). But he winces, very slightly, and continues “Gotham’s finest did try to contact him, to verify that I am in his employ, but Master Bruce didn’t pick up.”

“As if anyone could doubt you,” Damian tuts indignantly, to the sound of the front door. Then,

“…Guys?”

“In here, Jay!” Dick calls. And then, as the man appears in the doorway, “Alfred got almost carjacked!”

“Heard it on the police scanner,” Jason says, mouth twisted grimly. “Heard somethin’ about 'Bruce Wayne’s valet’ and 'altercation’, so I figured I’d better check in.”

“It could’ve been much worse,” Tim offers, while Alfred says,

“Hello, Master Jason.”

“Heya Alfie,” and he’s half-smiling when he crosses the room, crouches down in front of where Alfred sits on the sofa. He touches a hand, lightly, to Alfred’s knee and says, “C'mon, handsome. Show me the moneymaker.”

And Alfred huffs out something like a laugh, removing the ice. There’s a dark, swollen patch of colour wrapped around the man’s cheekbone, up to his eyebrow. His eye is already swelling closed.

All the boys cringe, slightly. And Jason whistles, then says, “No hey, okay, it’s nice, it brings out your eyes.”

“Very pretty,” Dick says helpfully, while Tim hides a smile.

“Thank you,” Alfred says drily, but instead of raising an eyebrow, he frowns slightly. Pained. Then he touches the growing bruise, annoyed.

“That little punk asshole,” Jason says. “He hadda put your sarcastic eyebrow out of commission. What’re you gonna do now?” and, “ _How will you and Bruce communicate_?”

“I’m sure Alfred will find something suitably passive-aggressive,” Dick offers, cheerfully.

“Itching powder in the laundry,” Damian says.

“Laxatives in the food.”

“He could just put him on the Gwyneth Paltrow diet?”

Alfred just sighs. And Damian, looking irritated, manually places the icepack back over Alfred’s injured face. He takes it, but shoos Damian away gently.

Jason, still crouched in front of Alfred, shakes his head sadly. “Carjacking,” he says. And then, thoughtfully, “You know… we really should do something about the crime problem in Gotham.”

He grins, sheepish, while Dick and Tim and Alfred start to laugh. (Damian just looks confused.) And he says, “I’m glad you’re okay, Alfred.”

“Should someone call Bruce?” Tim asks, after a moment.

“Shotgun not.”

“Shotgun not.”

“Shotgun not–”

“Ooh, tough break, Dami.”

“You can’t just–”

“Well we’re not gonna make  _poor injured Alfred_ do it, are we?”

**-END-**

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr.](http://incogneat-oh.tumblr.com/post/53156005411/oh-my-drabble)


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